Monday, July 6, 2009


Picture the scene. It is 7.30 am on a Monday, and I am morosely commuting my way from Ballyfuck to the Department. Noticing that the fuel hand on the car is dangerously close to "E", and that my stomach, were it to have a similar gauge, would be showing the same thing, judging by the rumbling thence. Damn! I wish I'd gotten up twenty minutes earlier and had breakfast!

I turn into a handy garage and fill up. The car, that is. Not for me the breakfast rolls and damp floppy sandwiches on offer. The most palatable thing on the shelf is a bottle of a drinkable form of yoghurt. Mmmm ... sugary, milky goodness! Or something.

Wanting to get to work for 8, I decide to have it "on the go". Well, I'm going to be stuck at any number of traffic lights on the way so there'll be ample opportunity to gulp it down safely. Or will there?

This morning, I discovered the perfect method of avoiding long waits at traffic lights in the morning. You have to really want to eat or drink the comestible you have brought with you in the car. Then, and only then, will you get a clear run through ALL the sets of lights before you arrive at your destination. Hungry and with low blood sugar. FACT.

Today was the first time in my entire commuting life (Sounds like a swear, eh? Maybe it should be.) that I've seen green lights all the way. No opportunity whatsoever to stop so I had to greedily gulp down the messy goo in the Department carpark before clocking in. And I managed to spill some on myself as a bonus.

It was an inglorious start to a rubbish day.

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